


Eye of the Tempest

by NattyWright



Series: Dalish Thedas [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F, Gay, Hurt and comfort, It's only mentioned in backstory, Major Injury, Really Really Gay, Romance, rape trigger warning, you think it's gay? It's gayer than that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-10-12 02:50:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10480461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NattyWright/pseuds/NattyWright
Summary: Lyla Mahariel, Interim Warden Commander of Ferelden, has saved the sacred ashes of her lover's god, but can she save herself and her world? The Archdemon still looms over them, taunting her in her dreams and after losing her eye, will she recover in time to defeat the blight? A tale of war and love, Lyla Mahariel's tale. Part 2 of Lyla Mahariel's World





	1. Survival

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note
> 
> Welcome to Part two of Lyla's story. I really do recommend you read "From the Dales to Denerim – Lyla Mahariel's Tale" first. But here is a brief recap if you don't want to read that massive beast.
> 
> Lyla Mahariel started as a racist Dalish Elf, hating all humans and especially Templars for the trauma they gave her. She is a rape victim. She falls in love with Leliana.
> 
> Neria Surana is a Dalish Elf who was kidnapped by the Templars at a young age and placed in the circle. Lyla took her with them when they saved the circle. Neria made a deal with the demon that took over Connor Guirrin. It taught her some magic but eventually took control of her body until the Guardian of the Sacred Ashes freed her.
> 
> Natalie Cousland is a transgender woman who the party saved from being killed. She has vowed to help Lyla and the Wardens to ensure her revenge.
> 
> Lyla saved the circle, saved Connor, and made peace between the Werewolves and Dalish elves. She has saved Soldier's peak.
> 
> The party worked towards Haven, where Lyla was severely injured fighting the Dragon at its peak. She lost her left eye.
> 
> Alistair and Leliana worked towards retrieving the Sacred Ashes of Andraste whilst the group recovered.
> 
> And now, onto the story…

 

Chapter 1 – Survival

Lyla screamed.

Pain she was used to, fear as well but what stood before her shook her more than any creature she had ever faced. Over the course of the blight, more horrors than any one person should ever experience had been seen by the whole group, and some part of Lyla wept for her soul. The larger part was more worried about the monster before her.

The Archdemon.

The nightmarish creation that they had spent the last year fighting against, and now they were ready. Lyla had left Alistair at the gates, holding the walls with the armies they had collected, and the majority of their party. Only Neria, Leliana, and Natalie joined her now. They were a small targeted strike force, with the power of the Dalish elves helping them of course. Lyla trusted their arrows against the Archdemon more than she trusted anything else they had collected.

The tower of Fort Drakon had been a harsh climb, fighting more darkspawn than Lyla had ever imagined seeing, more than she had even seen in the deeproads, their home, but they had done it. Too many people had been lost in this battle, more Dalish than Lyla could have ever known and more shemlen than she cared to. The durgen'len and the mages had lost many, but as Lyla had kept them to the walls, they had had the least casualties. However, right now that was the least of Lyla's problems.

Right now, she was in the air.

Falling wasn't the most enjoyable feeling in the world, it was even worse when you could see the sharp fangs of a dragon waiting to catch you. Lyla screamed again.

A green haze grabbed Lyla out of the air, pulling her to the side, just enough to avoid the gaping maw of the Archdemon. Lyla gasped in relief but gave no time to savour it. She charged, as she was wont to do and with her axe raised high, she cut the dragon's neck. Killing it swiftly, and dooming herself in one fell swoop.

A brilliant, beautiful explosion of light burst from the dragon as it fell to the ground. It darted up towards the sky in a fantastic column of colour before shattering and covering the city in pure white light.

Lyla collapsed as the light washed over her, turning as she fell. She searched out for her Leliana, determined to make her the last thing she ever saw.

Leliana bawled as she made eye contact, "LYLA!"

Lyla let consciousness fade away for the last time as her life flashed before her eye.

She flew back to the last time she woke up after fighting a dragon. Back when she lost her left eye.

Haven, six months ago.

OoOoO

She woke up in confusion. Not really sure if she was really there or not, but that was a fairly familiar feeling for her. Over the last few months, she had survived more stupid risks than any one of the people should. That was Lyla though, a survivor. As much as she hated to admit it, it wasn't down to her, not really. She had a good clan around her now. Wynne was the best healer that she had ever seen, better than Keeper Marethari by far, not that the Keeper would ever know. Creators, the anger that old woman could have. Lyla shuddered just thinking about it.

She opened her eyes slowly and immediately felt strange. There was something wrong but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Regardless, it was the least of her problems. In one corner of the room, she could make out the frail figure of Neria huddled into a ball with a severe looking Wynne standing over her. When she turned her head, a strange amount of movement needed, she saw Natalie looked dismayed, and further still an extraordinarily angry Sten.

One thing at a time, Lyla, she told herself.

Her first would be first naturally.

She tried to rise to at least a seated position but found her body wouldn't respond to her. With great effort, she attempted to lift her head but was distracted when Sten exploded.

"Parshaara!" He erupted. "This is foolish!"

"What?" Natalie stammered, suddenly looking very small next to the giant of a man beside her. "I don't understand."

"We are searching for the charred remnants of a dead woman when we should be fighting the Archdemon," he growled. "I have had enough of following in the shadow of the elf whilst she runs away from our goal."

Lyla tried to growl a response in return but her throat refused to work. With serious force, she rolled her body onto her side, watching the cave she was in rotate as she did. The rest of her clan rushed towards Sten, huddling around Natalie. Lyla looked towards them, seeing the fire of rage in the Qunari's eyes and knew what was coming before the group reacted.

"I am in charge now," Sten roared, brandishing the large sword the group had acquired for him. "If any wish to challenge me, let them defend themselves."

To their credit, the group instantly stood ready to fight for Lyla's honour but it was unneeded.

On the floor, before Lyla was one of Leliana's daggers, one of the many, many daggers her woman held, and Lyla had crawled towards it as Sten spoke.

With practised aim and the Creators' own luck, she managed enough momentum to throw the weapon directly towards Sten. Or so she had expected.

She had thrown daggers more times than she could count and never missed. She was not the practiced marksman of her people but she could hit a target this close with her eyes closed.

The dagger clanged against the stone wall behind the Qunari and he turned to look at her with a feral grin.

She panicked for the first time in forever. She never missed. Never.

It was then that she realised what was wrong with her body.

The whole left side of her vision was black. Where she should have seen Neria and Wynne, instead she saw only the void.

She screamed. A primal, horrific sound that would have sent shivers down the spines of the bravest warrior.

"What has happened to me?" She whispered.

"You are in no position to challenge me. You would have been a worthy opponent. I will grant you a worthy death," he ordered.

He marched towards her with his giant sword raised high. Lyla tried to move, Creators, did she try. But all the fight had left her. Lyla Mahariel was a survivor, but perhaps Lyla Mahariel was no more.

She closed her eyes, no her eye as Sten stood before her and waited for the blow that would end her life. The blow that wouldn't come.

"Bâtard!" Leliana screeched. And Lyla heard rushed footsteps and the soft wet sound of a dagger piercing flesh.

Blood washed over Lyla and as she opened her one good eye, she was delighted to see her woman standing over her. And Sten lying beside her.

Lyla Mahariel was a survivor, but it was never down to her.


	2. The Tempest

“Good timing, Leliana,” Wynne was the first to recover. “Now I beg of you, please move out of my way. I need to inspect our leader to ensure she is not even more damaged than I first imagined.”

“I’m not leaving her again,” Leliana spat as she sat on the floor beside her lover. Lyla couldn’t help the smile that grew upon her face, feeling the warmth in her chest as Leliana took her hand.

“Mas serannas, vhenan,” Lyla whispered. “No mercy for traitors, he deserved to die.”

“No one hurts you and lives,” Leliana growled. “I would not lose you.”

“Ahem,” Wynne coughed. The rest of the clan were busy around the cave, busy pretending to be busy. “As nice as it is to see young love blossom, I need to inspect your wounds, Lyla, and I need to give you bad news.”

“My eye?” Lyla whimpered.

“Yes,” Wynne acknowledged, “your eye. I’m sorry, Lyla, I truly am, but I could not save it. Magic is powerful, but the eyes are the windows to the souls and that is too much for even me to handle. I put more of my magic than was sensible into you, and it was not enough.”

“I…” Lyla spoke softly, as though she was dreaming. “I understand. Anything else?”

“It will be a few days until you feel completely recovered, I’m afraid. And you have a scar across your left cheek. I’m sorry, my friend, but your dagger tattoo is gone.”

“Elgar’nan, forgive me. Do you have a mirror? I would like to see the damage myself,” Lyla chose every word carefully. She could feel her old friend rage trying to escape the prison she kept it in, but she refused to allow it even a taste of freedom. They had just lost a member of the clan to treachery, she would not explode and risk losing another.

“There is more,” Wynne murmured. “Though this isn’t relating to you. For once, you aren’t the most careless member of this ragtag group. We need to talk about Neria.”

“Wynne, she needs rest,” Leliana warned,” this can wait.”

“No it cannot,” the elder mage spat. “She was possessed. She foolishly made a deal with that demon, the one that nearly destroyed Redcliffe. It had taken her body from her and would have killed her if it wasn’t for the Guardian of the Ashes.”

“I don’t understand,” Lyla groaned. “Morrigan assured me Neria was free of the spirit.”

“She did what? Why was I not informed!” Wynne gasped.

“I assumed you had been, lethallan, abelas. The Templars in Redcliffe knew and I thought you had heard.” Lyla explained. “Leave me, and send my first. I would prefer to hear her account.”

Wynne looked as though she was about to speak once more but a glare from Leliana made her think twice. She escaped the couple and spoke under her breath to Neria. Lyla took the chance to turn her head completely to look at her Leliana.

“I love you,” she said as a tear fell from her eye. “The Creators took my eye but I am glad they did not take you.”

“Our Gods are cruel, love, but they love us all the same. We retrieved the ashes whilst you slept, my darling, we are ready to leave this accursed village whenever you are up to it.”

“Soon then,” Lyla smiled. “I want to be back in Redcliffe before the worst of winter hits us. The Arl will owe us enough to grant us warm beds and food, I am sure.”

“A good plan, Lyla,” Leliana grinned. “And a master bedroom for us, no? I long to be cuddled up to you in a soft bed again.”

Lyla felt her cheeks burn and her stomach felt light with butterflies, but she was happy. All in all, losing an eye was a small price to pay for keeping her clan safe. She remembered charging that dragon, remembered her folly as her roots as a hunter took control. But she had saved them, she assumed, or perhaps they had saved her. Either way, Leliana was safe, and Lyla hadn’t needed to experience more Andrastrian preaching than she had needed to. That was almost as good.

“Hahren,” Neria whispered as she looked at the ground. She stood before her Keeper with more shame than Lyla had ever seen. “Abelas, lethallan, abelas.”

“Da’len, look at me,” Lyla gently prodded, and Neria complied. Tears stained her cheeks and her bottom lip wobbled as she made eye contact with Lyla. “What happened?”

“Enamour, the demon was gone. I swear it!” Neria squeaked. “When you admonished me in Redcliffe, I swear the demon was gone. I swear.” She collapsed to her knees and tears fell freely.

Lyla leant forward, with a little help from her love, and took Neria’s hands in her own. “I believe you, Neria Surana.”

“Ma serannas, keeper,” Neria spoke after collected herself. “It wasn’t until we got to the ruins in the Brecillian Forest that she spoke to me. She was so loving at first, so kind, and sweet, and just wonderful to me. She listened and taught me more than any one had ever attempted to. She cared for me, and my future, and the future of our people! And it was all a LIE!” Neria screamed. Magic sparked around her body, bounced and dancing across her shoulders. “I trusted her and she took, and she took, and she took! She gave me more magic and I gave her more freedom, though I didn’t know it.

“When I used my magic to take down that evil shemlen Father here, she took control of me. Caged me away in a gilded prison inside my own mind. I had to watch as she spoke to you all, watch as she lived my life and none of you noticed. I was powerless to stop her, breaking free for brief ecstatic but utterly useless moments,” Neria sobbed.

“I knew there was something wrong, lethallan,” Lyla comforted. “I told Natalie to keep an eye on you, though I truly had no idea what I was looking for.”

“It wasn’t until we reached that glorious man in the cave ahead. He saved me, and I could never repay that debt. I am such a fool,” Neria finished, not hearing Lyla.

“Lethallan,” Lyla squeezed her first’s hands. “There is nothing I could say that you haven’t already said to yourself, is there? You won’t make that mistake again. I know what it is like to have someone else take control of your body and do things to it that you don’t want. I used the experience to make myself stronger, though it scarred me. I hope you can do the same, with time. I need you in this blight, and you are my first. I rely on you.”

“You still trust me?” Neria gasped. “After all I have done.”

“You are punishing yourself more than I ever could, and no doubt Wynne will be as cruel as an old woman can be. I know you regret this and won’t let it happen again,” Lyla replied before prompting her first. “We are the Dalish, keepers of the lost lore, walkers of the lonely path.”

“We are the last of the Elvhenan, and never again shall we submit,” Neria finished with renewed vigour. “You are right, Keeper, I will never submit again.” She stood and nodded her head at her friends before walking back to Wynne.

“Help me stand, Vhenan,” Lyla whispered. “I need to talk to the clan.”

Leliana kissed her on the cheek and Lyla ignored the blush she could feel forming. Together, they helped Lyla stand and as she leant upon her heart, she felt stronger than she ever had.

“Abelas,” She shouted above the small murmuring the clan was producing amongst themselves. They stood to attention and one by one they stood before her.

Lyla looked at them, smiling as she felt Leliana leave her and take her place next to Alistair. Her gaze drifted over the rest of the group. Over Shale, Natalie, Zevran, Wynne, Neria, Morrigan, and the two dogs. They were a strange bunch but Lyla wouldn’t change her clan for anything.

“Abelas, my friends. I am sorry. I have once again risked myself needlessly. I like to think I saved you all from that dragon, but I know better than to assume that. Ma serannas, thank you. What happened to Sten was a shame, but he was a traitor and I will not stand a traitor to live. My people believe in no mercy for those who betray the clan, those who put themselves or their own ideals before the Keeper and the clan. None who threaten us will live to regret their decision, trust me.

“We leave as soon as our equipment is packed. The Arl is waiting for us, and I am eager to receive his generosity. And save him of course,” She winked at Alistair and received what was no doubt a rude gesture in return. “Sten was wrong when he said we were hiding. We are biding our time and waiting. The Archdemon is scared of us, I assure you. He talks to Alistair and me in our dreams, makes empty threats and boring horrors. He is hiding away deep down in his lair and we will burn him out before the war is done, I promise you. They call me the Tempest, and the Archdemon will not live to regret pissing me off.”

 


	3. Fury

 

It hadn't taken them long to pack their things. They had known their stay in that cave was only temporary and only the bare essentials had been unpacked. The clan was well-practiced at this now, a learnt art that they had all but perfected.

Lyla stood at the side of the cave, leaning against the wall and grimacing as pain shot through her body. Wynne's magic was strong, there was no denying that but there was some things she couldn't quite fix, and this pain was a reminder of it.

Her body had been as close to broken as she had ever experienced, a stupid mistake that a da'len would have made had nearly cost her, her life, and Lyla knew she had to be better.

She was no longer a child, she was the closest thing to a keeper this little clan had. She was their keeper and she couldn't take such stupid, idiotic risks any more. She had to learn, she had to.

As always, she was too hard on herself, deep down she knew this, but Lyla was a fighter and tough love was the only way she could make herself learn.

"My love," Leliana whispered from her side, "can we talk?" Lyla was glad for the distraction, and infinitely gladder that distraction was her Leliana.

Nothing was more precious to her than her bard. "Ma vhenan, you know I will always have time for you," she crooned. Flirting was still awkward for her, not like the gorgeous flows of desire that Leliana effortlessly displayed. Lyla was jealous of how easy it was for Leliana to display her love, and was glad that the human didn't care.

"I'm glad, my dearest one," Leliana smiled as she leaned in for a small kiss. Lyla let the bard take her by the hand and lead her away from the group.

"What is it you want to talk about, vhenan?" Lyla inquired as they found privacy.

Leliana turned back to look at her lover and Lyla had to suppress the gasp that fell to her lips. Leliana had never looked more serious, and more forlorn. Throughout all of their time fighting Marjolaine, and the horror that bitch had brought upon them, Leliana had never looked so scared.

"What has happened?" Lyla growled. She cursed herself as the noise left her throat, cursed how her first reaction was always anger, not love or comfort. She was a berserker that was what Leliana had called her all those months ago when they first met and it fit her perfectly. A rage filled warrior that knew no different. A crippled one too, with her eye missing. Shooting was almost impossible now, she knew it. She shook her head subtly, dispelling the hate from her mind as she looked into Leliana's impossibly blue eyes.

"The Maker has shown me things I never wanted to see," Leliana began, and Lyla had to stop herself from sighing. They agreed on much but religion was still their sore spot. They had two different views on the Chantry. "In those caves he showed me the future, and I cannot let that happen, Lyla. I would not let him take you from me!" She screamed, then her eyes widened in fear. "I will not lose you, and this injury is just the first, I know it."

"What are you talking about, Leliana?" Lyla directed them to sit on the floor as the spoke. She took Leliana in her arms and stroked her hair as Leliana looked up at her.

"Alistair and I had visions in the cave. Part of our trials to get the ashes, I suppose. But, where he saw hope and a new future for Ferelden, I only got warnings and fear. They told me I would survive but would not tell me of your fate, vhenan," Leliana sobbed. Tears fell freely as Lyla brushed them away, cooing comfort as best she could, but Leliana was not listening. "I know how to save you, I am sure of it. You've lost your eye, my love, how can you hope to fight the Archdemon if you cannot see?"

Lyla ignored the prickles of anger she felt. Leliana was not criticising her, she was not. And if she was that was ok. Wasn't it? Lyla was too proud, a fault all the Dalish shared no doubt, but it was a flaw she recognised. Any and all analysis of her was met with anger and defiance.

Leliana lifted herself away from Lyla's arms and reached into her coat pocket, producing a small pouch. "These are The Sacred Ashes, my love. The cure for any and all ailments. Said to cure the crippled, save the dying, and fix the unfixable. Andraste will save you, Lyla, she can bring your eye back and you can beat the Archdemon. Trust me, trust Andraste, please," Leliana begged as she held the pouch closer.

Lyla flinched away.

"Andraste?" Lyla barked. Her righteous rage was welcome now. It was easier to be angry than it was to understand her feelings, anger was her oldest friend, her kindest ally, her strongest weapon. "ANDRASTE?" She roared. "You say you love me, but you would subject me to her?"

"I am saving your life, Lyla," Leliana snapped back. "Andraste will fix the injury your stupid actions made."

"Stupid?" Lyla deflated, momentarily at least. Her rage expanded once more, breathing life into her faster than she could have ever hoped. "I saved us! I am this clan's keeper, shemlen, I would have thought you realised that by now. I am Dalish, Leliana, never shall we submit!

"Andraste thought to save my people once before, she saved us from the shemlen who enslaved us. But she was betrayed and whatever good intentions she may have had, your alas'lin Chantry destroyed. I will never trust them again. My people have paid enough for human religion," Lyla screamed. She knew now that the rest of the clan could hear them but she didn't care. Let them hear, they would find out eventually regardless.

"You arrogant fool," Leliana hissed, "I love you, but you are so impossibly proud that you cannot even accept my help?" Leliana marched towards Lyla, towering over the elf as she poked her chest. "I stole the ashes for you!"

"I never asked for that, vhenan," Lyla whispered, suddenly feeling pathetic.

"You never had to!" Leliana roared. She closed her eyes for a moment that lasted a long breath. "The Ashes are yours, Lyla Mahariel, I suggest you use them." Leliana threw the pouch on the ground and stomped off.

"I love you," Lyla muttered after her ghosts. Shame and disgust at herself fuelled only her anger and as she reached down to grab the Ashes, she felt her wrath explode.

"I know you are all listening," She screamed as she addressed the clan. "The camp better be packed and ready to go, we are fucking leaving."

She growled as she looked towards the nearest wall and unleased an impossibly stupid punch into it. Revelling in her anger and the pain she ignored how hard it was to walk without the left side of her vision, standing tall as she stormed towards the cave entrance.

"Ma halam, Lyla, ne len'alas lath'din," she cried under her breath. "Happiness was good whilst it lasted, but now you have a job to do."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> Ma halam, Lyla, ne len'alas lath'din – You are finished, Lyla, you dirty elf that no one could love.


	4. Chapter 4 – The Power of Pride

 

Days and nights had passed since they had left Haven. Brother Genitivi had excitedly sped into the cave, searching for the Ashes but it made little difference to Lyla’s mood. Since that day, she had been in a foul mood. Fouler than she had felt for a long time.

Snow was beginning to fall as they reached the road. Winter was coming and it was growing colder by the hour. Ferelden was a cold country, one that Lyla would have preferred to have left by now, her old clan used to winter in the Dales in Orlais, but that was a past life, an impossibility for her.

The clan chattered away, talking amongst themselves and Neria even singing, but there was only silence between Lyla and her heart. Leliana was upset with her and if Lyla was totally honest, she was upset with Leliana.

Andraste was not her God. Not now, not ever. She just hoped they could move past it, but it was Leliana’s turn to push. Lyla had tried to talk to her over the last few days but as soon as Leliana saw the makeshift eye-patch she refused to even look in Lyla’s eye. Conversations turned colder than the weather and Lyla gave up. Leliana didn’t want her that much was obvious now. Her heart was leaving her and there was nothing more she could do. Except deny her faith, and that was not possible.

Once, long ago Andraste had tried to save her people. Freeing them from the slavery they had been under, and the Dalish were eternally grateful for that. Not that they would ever acknowledge it. But as with everything, the Chantry destroyed the peace between them, the Maker twisting the ideas and the beliefs of the shemlen and flat-ears who believed. The Exalted March, they had called it. Extermination was what it was. They attacked elves, killed Lyla’s people. The Maker twisted Andraste’s vision and Lyla would not allow that to happen with her body. The Chantry and its Templars had violated her enough.

Leliana wouldn’t even attempt to listen though. It made Lyla want to cry. Or explode. Or both. Creators, she didn’t know what to think. Emotions had never been her strong suit.

The clan was camping now, it was cold away from the fire and the rest of them were huddled around it, but Lyla wanted to give Leliana space. The bard was sitting beside the fire, listening intently to Natalie and Alistair discuss some shemlen noble, and Lyla didn’t have the heart to upset her with her presence.

She walked away from the main camp, pulling her furs tighter over her shoulders but still she couldn’t get warm. Her breath plumed in white foggy clouds and she sighed as she realised just how much colder it was going to get. She busied herself with collecting small pieces of firewood, building a small fire away from the rest of the clan, she wanted, no needed privacy.

Revas had followed her, she could hear his soft footfalls in the small layer of snow on the ground. She loved that dog, he always seemed to sense when she needed him most, and right now she did.

The fire was completed quickly and as she lit it she started to cry.

“Revas, why won’t she talk to me?” She sobbed as she held the dog close. “I can’t do as she asks, I just can’t.”

The dog didn’t answer, as she expected, just pulled closer, sitting in her small lap, engulfing her.

She cried into his fur until finally she fell asleep.

**OoOoO**

The days past in a blur, and Lyla kept to herself. No one approached her, the hostile anger she emitted scared all but Revas away. Neria was almost brave enough one day but a glare from her Keeper made her think twice.

Another night of Lyla walking away from them all, and the rest pretending everything was normal was too much for the elf. Neria had to do something, anything really.

They sat around the fire, even Morrigan joining the warmth for once, telling stories and ignoring their sad leader. It disgusted Neria really.

Wynne was telling another of her sanctimonious tales, making shapes in the fire to play the characters and any other night Neria would have been entranced.

“Is this it then?” Neria growled, staring at Leliana as she spoke up.

“Don’t talk about what you don’t understand, Neria,” Leliana warned her but Neria was never good at heeding them.

“What is there to misunderstand?” Neria stood as she raised her voice. Lyla needed to hear someone defend her, and as her first she should have done so much sooner. “You need to speak to Lyla, Leliana. I can’t just stand by and ignore how we are all treating her! She is our leader, our saviour, she rescued me from the tower and has saved us all countless times and this is how we reward her? You should all be ashamed of yourselves. You most of all, Leliana!”

Leliana stood to shout back, tears in her eyes but it was a voice from beyond the camp that silenced them.

“ENOUGH!” Lyla roared as she entered the camp. “Do not speak to her like that,” she pointed at Neria.

“I didn’t ask you to defend my honour, warden,” Leliana spat at their leader.

Lyla flinched as Leliana spoke, shrinking back from the venom that erupted from the bard’s mouth.

“You never had to,” Lyla whispered back.

Alistair jumped to his feet, unsheathing his sword and staring into Lyla’s eye. The wardens stared at each other for an imperceptible moment before Lyla paled. “Darkspawn!” Alistair growled.

“Get in a circle,” Lyla ordered. “Wynne and Neria on opposite sides. I need the Mages to protect the ranged fighters. Morrigan, you’re with Alistair, Shale, and me. Zevran, use a bow, lethallin, I am not having you get tainted.”

Leliana pulled her daggers out and looked as though she was about to speak but Lyla cut her off with a slash of her hand in the air. “Don’t argue with me now, Leliana, please. I can’t worry about you and concentrate on fighting. I fear I’ve already lost you, but I won’t let you die. You may hate me, but you’re still the love of my life. Get your bow and stay at range.”

Neria could see tears forming in both of their eyes, but Leliana backed down, grabbing a bow. “Stay safe, Lyla, don’t you dare get hurt again,” the bard asked after her, but Lyla didn’t respond.

Neria watched as the warriors stood ready, standing facing the small woods to their south. Alistair and Lyla were talking and pointing towards them, no doubt that was where the spawn hid.

She hated fighting darkspawn. They stunk. A putrid, horrific smell that permeated everything. It enveloped the camp like a fog. She had secretly hoped the darkspawn hated the cold as much as she did. But alas, there was no luck to be had there. Hopes and wishes didn’t defeat the blight, only the Grey Wardens did and Neria was delighted to be helping them. Lyla had given her more chances than she deserved and she would earn every single one of them.

Without that demon in her head, she didn’t feel as strong but that did not mean she was helpless. Far from it.

She spoke some ancient words, the ancient spell-words from Tevinter, and waved her hand. The clan’s weapons, arrows and shield ignited in blue flames. Neria’s magic had improved greatly since she left the tower, and this fire would not even hurt her friends. She’d never hurt them again.

An inhuman screech echoed from the woods and the horror of war began.

Gone where the silly worries of whether Lyla would join them for the evening, instead she didn’t even know if they would see the evening.

The first legion of monsters charged from the forest, shrieking loud enough to turn Neria’s legs to jelly. An arrow flew past her shoulder, igniting in the blue flames and Leliana’s roar followed it as it pierced the first monster’s eye, killing it painfully.

Lyla roared ahead, “Ar tu na’din!” An elven curse that they had all begun familiar with. The rest of the clan added their voices to the cry, adding their hopes and dreams to the sound.

Creators, she hoped the survived this. Maker, she hoped none of them died.

The time for prayer was over as quick as it had begun, and the first wave engulfed the warriors, with stragglers charging towards them. Morrigan’s spider form trapped many but many escaped towards Neria.

She would show them her power. Show them it was not due to the fucking demon in her head. She was strong!

She span and twirled her staff, perhaps more dramatically than she needed to, and finished it with a flourished stab into the ground. Vines erupted through the snow, grabbing the nearest dozen monsters and pulling them into the dirt. They would suffocate slowly and painfully, a death that only a monster deserved.

Ghouls and taller darkspawn erupted from the forest but Neria paid them no mind. A horrific shriek filled her ears and she instinctively dropped to the floor. A monster appeared from the shadows behind her, seemingly coming from thin air. It looked thinner than any other darkspawn she had ever seen, more lithe than broad. It was faintly familiar and it disgusted Neria that she even had that thought. It roared and spittle fell onto Neria’s face. Its breath stunk worse than rotting flesh, and she had to resist the urge to puke as she wiped her face.

It died like the others as an arrow exploded through its head. Zevran, Natalie, or Leliana, it didn’t matter really. They were one, a clan not a group, and together they were stronger than anything.

Neria darted and dived as she weaved her spells, the movement helped her concentrate her mana, she was becoming more dramatic with her twirls now that Enamour was gone, some desperate attempt to show her power perhaps? But she couldn’t afford to pay it any mind.

She concentrated her mind on the forest before them. She was Dalish. The Creators gave them trees for a reason, no? She would use them to defeat the plague before her.

She pulled upon her strongest tie to the fade, pulling the power from that otherworldly place and firing it with all her might towards the woods.

The trees shook with power, crushing all the darkspawn within. She could hear their screams in her mind and she delighted in it. She was stronger than any of them had ever imagined. Enamour had done nothing but hold her back.

She was ripped from her self-confidence as Lyla screamed in horror.

“TAMLEN!”


	5. Revasan

Ghouls were the worst part of the darkspawn in Lyla's eye. She could take on as many genlocks and hurlocks, even an ogre or two, without flinching but seeing someone turned by the taint to do the Archdemon's will? That was too close to comfort, too close to what she nearly became.

A future that Duncan saved her from. She wasn't grateful then, she hadn't realised what was going to happen to her. She was grateful now. These poor souls didn't deserve this. Not even Loghain deserved this.

She cut down the nearest darkspawn creature, some blighted wolf or some such, but she barely paid it any mind. Killing darkspawn was simple work for Wardens, something in their shared taint helped, and the lack of fear in Lyla's mind helped even more. Five more ghouls fell to her axe and sword but as she span to attack the last, she froze in horror.

The rest of the clan continued fighting the dwindling darkspawn but Lyla just stared at the ghost from her past.

"TAMLEN!" She screaming in horror as it hit her. Her oldest friend, Tamlen stood impossibly before her.

Countless months ago he had died, the accident that given her the taint had hurt him too. He had disappeared that day. The clan even had a funeral for him!

He had been handsome once, even Lyla had noticed that. And all the rumours of romance between them had been flattering to say the least. His well styled blonde hair used to take forever for him to do, countless days had been spent waiting for him to get it just right. He had been so vain, so full of love. For both himself and his clan.

Now? Now he was just a shell of his former self. His well-loved hair was gone, leaving a bald, grey skinned man before her. His vallaslin shone gold against his diseased skin. His eyes used to be the same blue as the sky, reminding everyone of the freedom of the Dalish, he had loved that description. They hung dim in his head, sunken into deep, dark shadows.

They had been practically brother and sister, together fighting and hunting since they could talk. Losing him had taken more of a toll on her than most of the rest of the clan. Only Merrill and Ashalle meant more to her.

Touching the mirror had tainted them both, but Lyla had survived. She had thought him lost! She collapsed to her knees as he slowly, determinedly walked towards her.

He walked as though every step was through a bed of glass. Grimacing as he held his hands up high, as far from the knife at his side as possible.

"Lethallan," he moaned, agony pulsating throughout his voice. He froze as he got close and suddenly covered his face with his hands. "Don't look at me! I… Am… Sick…" The words came slowly out of his mouth with brutal effort. Lyla could feel his pain as he looked at her through his fingers.

"Creators, have mercy. It can't be," Lyla sobbed as she stood. She slowly walked towards him with her arms outstretched. The fighting had stopped around her now, the darkspawn either routed or defeated, it didn't matter. She could feel her clans eyes on her back, could hear their questions but she ignored them, concentration only on her poor friend.

"No. Closer." He groaned. "Please, lethallan, please." He stepped back once more, tripping on a root behind him and falling on his back.

"Ir abelas, lethallin, what happened to you?" Lyla whispered softly as she grew closer. She dropped her weapons, keeping only her small dagger on her waist as she stood before him.

He closed his eyes and grimaced before letting out a howl of pain. "Don't want… to hurt you. Please… Stop me…" He moaned. "The song… in my head. It hurts! I can…. Hear him calling. He wants me to… hurt you. I can't stop it!" He roared and swung an arm at Lyla but she jumped back away from it. Horror ignited in his eyes and he looked at her, begging.

"I can help you," She fell to her knees as she sobbed. "Please, lethallin, please! I can't lose you again. It was hard enough the first time. There was so much I wanted to tell you. I had so many secrets, Creators, how I wish I told you."

"I know… Lyla… I know," he groaned. "I loved you… as a sister… I knew how your heart lay. I would… have accepted you, sister. Please, stop me!" He rose to his feet slowly and stood over her, anger and hatred in his eyes as he smashed his hands down.

Lyla felt the tears flow down her face as she slashed up, grabbing her small dagger and slicing it across Tamlen's throat. She held him as they fell together to the floor, not caring about the ugly noises she was making as she watched her old friend die.

"Ma serannas, lethallin."

"Ir abelas, lethallan, ar lasa mala revas," she sobbed.

She held him as the light in his eyes left and she was left alone. Her head fell over him and she cried harder than she knew she could.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> Lethallan/lethallin – close friend. Lan is feminine and lin is masculine.
> 
> Ma serannas – Thank you
> 
> Ir abelas – I am sorry
> 
> Ar lasa mala revas – I give you your freedom


	6. Vir'Vhen

 

Love was a strange thing really. It made you care about people that deep down you really shouldn’t and made even the smartest people do stupid things. Leliana was glad for it though. Without love, the world would be a dark, boring place. No matter how angry she was at Lyla, how betrayed she felt, she still loved her. It was a strange thing.

All traces of her anger fled as she heard Lyla scream. Her bow was dropped in an instant and before it had touched the floor she had taken off towards her love. Her daggers drawn from their sheaths and as she danced around the remaining darkspawn she was sure to keep the creatures at arm’s length as she attacked, she would not risk an infection.

Love made her such an idiot. She was a willing victim to its pull, and a delightful victor whenever she saw Lyla smile. Maker’s breath, she hadn’t seen the elf smile for a long time. What was she doing? She sliced the nearest ghoul and sighed. She was a Bard! One of the best if she was being vain, which she regularly was in the safety of her own mind. The Maker looked down on pride, but it was Leliana’s biggest vice, one that she was glad of really. Pride gave her the confidence she needed to keep going.

She rolled past one final genlock, slashing its hamstrings and stabbing its neck as it fell. It died as Leliana kept on running. Lyla needed her.

What a fool she was. She should never have given Lyla the cold shoulder as long as she did, not when they could die at any moment. They only had one life together, and with the war around them it could be cut short at any point, a point more likely to arrive if Lyla was reckless and upset. The bard needed to get over herself.

She stopped as she grew close to Lyla, her daggers falling to the ground with a dull thud. Her elf was holding a ghoul in her arms, sobbing wildly.

Leliana didn’t need to know what was wrong, just that she would be there for the love of her life.

She sprinted towards her heart, holding her close as Lyla cried deeply into her shoulder. She stroked the elf’s back, whispered sweet things in her native tongue.

The rest of the group started to clean the site, burning the bodies and moving the more severely damaged tents. Wynne and Neria set about fixing them, Leliana assumed but she was too busy comforting her lover.

“This is… was Tamlen,” Lyla whispered after her tears slowed. “My oldest friend, you remember me telling you about him?”

“Yes, darling, I do,” Leliana cooed in her ear. “Your hunting partner, no? I thought he died?”

“So did we!” Lyla sobbed into her chest. She had placed Tamlen softly on the floor before her, turning to properly embrace the bard. “We had a funeral for him and everything. But he was a ghoul all along. My poor friend.”

“What was he like, love?” Leliana kissed Lyla’s ear softly, stroking her cheek as she turned the elf’s face up to look at her emerald eyes. “Tell me about him.”

They sat there, talking and crying together until the clan came over.

“Lyla?” Alistair asked quietly. “Are you ok?”

“No, lethallin , I’m not. But I will be, ma serannas,” Lyla stood as she spoke. “Do we have any way to dig a grave? This man was dear to me, an old friend. He deserves a proper burial.”

“Of course!” Alistair agreed readily. “I’ll grab some shovels and we will start digging. I remember you telling me about Dalish funerals, Maker, it feels like forever ago. In the forest, yes? And we need a sapling?”

“Well remembered, Felas,” Lyla smiled warmly. “I’ll find the tree, if you dig?”

“A good plan, my friend,” Alistair nodded.

“Keeper?” Neria spoke up as she stepped forward. “I can call a sapling from the ground if it is easier?”

“Ma serannas, lethallan, that would be perfect.”

Leliana held her love tight from behind as they watched the clan move, all of them helping out in their own way. It was beautiful to watch.

“I’m sorry,” Leliana whispered in Lyla’s ear. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to do something you didn’t want to.”

“I should have explained, love, I am as much at fault as you,” Lyla replied. “I trust you implicitly. You are the one person in the whole world who I trust more than others. But I cannot trust Andraste and your Maker. I am so sorry, Leliana, I truly am.”

“It is ok,” Leliana sighed, “We have both seen different visions of the Chantry, no? Perhaps one day I can show you how I see it. I understand how hard that can be, my love. I know what those who claimed to be the Maker’s chosen have done to you. I was just trying to help you, my love, I can’t imagine how hard this has been for you.”

“It’s easier now you’re back with me,” Lyla turned in Leliana’s arms and Leliana met her gaze. She felt the love between them explode inside her and as she bent her head down to kiss Lyla’s lips, the elf met her halfway.

“Do your people marry?” Leliana asked suddenly, surprising even herself with her forwardness. “I mean, maybe they do, but err…”

She was a bard! She was meant to be tactful and charming, seductive even! Not a bumbling mess.

“Yes!” Lyla surged in her arms, practically jumping up and down. “I mean, yes we do have marriage. We bond for life, bondmates.”

“And how does one ask their lover to be a bondmate?” Leliana asked quietly.

“Leliana, ma vhenan, ma lath, my life, from the moment I wake to the moment I sleep, I think of you. We… no, I am Dalish, a keeper of the lost lore, I walk the lonely path, but with you, it is less lonely. Will you follow vir’vhen with me?” Lyla blushed something terrible as she spoke and Leliana kissed her deeply as she finished.

“Oui! Yes!” She squealed, lifting the elf up as she hugged her tight. “I love you so much.”

“Ar lath, ma vhenan.”

Love was a strange thing really. It made you care more about someone than you cared about yourself. Those who say it is selfish are fools, it is the most selfless power in the galaxy. Leliana did stupid things for it, but the reward made it all worth it. With love in it, Leliana’s world was bright and full of beautiful colours. Leliana Mahariel, it had a nice ring to it after all.

 

 

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> Lethallin/lethallan – close friend. Lin is masculine, lan is feminine
> 
> Ma serannas – thank you
> 
> Felas – slow. Alistair’s nickname
> 
> Ma vhenan – My heart
> 
> Ma lath – My love
> 
> Vir’vhen – Way of the heart
> 
> Ar lath – I love you


	7. Snowdrop

 

Lyla was happy. Creators, kill her now but she was. Really happy. Happier than anyone being hunted by shemlen royalty and darkspawn had any real right to be. She blamed Leliana, and it made her laugh out loud.

A fortnight they had been traveling, a long, cold, snowy fortnight but Lyla’s smile hadn’t diminished. Marriage. Creators, she was getting married. She giggled softly to herself as the rest of the clan stared at her. She didn’t care how crazy she looked.

Revas bounded up to her, kicked snowflakes up as he ran. He bumped into her leg and barked. Bending down, she scratched his ear and laughed again. Happiness was a strange feeling.

“Lissa!” Natalie shouted as her dog ran towards them, desperate to join in with their love, and Lyla accepted her willingly. She loved animals, all animals. “Sorry, Lyla, I couldn’t stop her.”

“It’s ok, lethallan, she just wanted some attention, no?” Lyla smirked as she looked up at the tall woman. “Is she behaving herself then?”

“Oh yes, she’s a wonderful dog,” Natalie asked bemused.

“Oh! Ir abelas, lethallan, I was speaking to Lissa,” Lyla stuck her tongue out at the human and looked into Lissa’s eyes. The dog stared back and barked happily. “Oh, I am so very glad to hear it, falon! She is a very good human, yes?”

Natalie began to laugh as Lyla kept up the conversation, she knelt down beside her mabari and Lyla, wrapping her arm around the war dog. “So does she say nice things about me?”

Lyla wore a sly smile as she looked up, “Oh I couldn’t betray her confidence like that! Lissa’s secrets are just that! Secret!” Lyla jumped to her feet giggling. “Unless you can catch me!” She took off in the opposite direction, heading to the main group.

Her laughter echoed through the caravan as she sprinted through the middle of it. The wagon Shale was pulling acted as a perfect hiding place as Lyla jumped into it. They had found it in Haven and felt it was perfect for them, small enough that Shale would pull, and the golem was surprisingly ok with it. It seemed to be happy to show off how superior it was to the fleshy creatures it travelled with.

She pulled a blanket over her head and giggled quietly to herself as she heard Natalie searching. Before too long, hands were grasping at the wagon, pulling little things out and Lyla could barely keep herself quiet.

A callused hand burst through the blankets and grabbed her wrist, pulling at her but Lyla was a warrior and a warrior would not be beaten. She pulled back and to her immense surprise, a familiar body fell upon on her.

“Well hello, ma cherie,” Leliana hummed, “fancy seeing you here.” The bard’s hands wrapped around Lyla’s waist as she lay on top of the elf. Lyla ran her hands through her lover’s hair and pulled her in close, crashing their lips together in a desperate frenzy. Their tongues battled, and Lyla’s hands wandered. They were wearing their armour, Lyla always insisted on it, but her fiancée’s armour was tight enough to leave little to the imagination. Creators, she loved this woman.

“Urgh,” Shale groaned as it looked over its shoulder, “the fleshy things are doing fleshy things. I almost wish I was back in the village.”

Lyla’s face lit up as she flushed but Leliana just giggled and pulled a blanket over them. This was the only way to travel.

**OoOoO**

Redcliffe castle was more inviting than the first time Lyla had approached its gates but she still felt uneasy. A shemlen castle was a monument to the very world she had opposed for so long but the very nobles she had grown up hating were now her only human allies and she could not afford to lose them, no matter how much she disliked it. The Arl would owe her for this, his life, his wife’s life, and even his young son’s were all saved thanks to the wardens, that was not even mentioning the small village below. She would make him help her, if he did not offer it outright.

Small specs of snow began to fall and not for the first time, Lyla wished she had some furs to pull around her, she opted instead for pulling Leliana closer, wrapping her arm around the woman’s waist. It had become much easier for Lyla to show her affection publically, the little voice of anxiousness disappearing as the much larger voice of joy overwhelmed her. She loved holding her woman.

“Party approaching!” A watcher on the castle walls shouted out, “Identify yourselves, strangers!”

“Grey wardens!” Lyla replied back.

“We come with the Sacred Ashes of Andraste!” Alistair shouted up, and they revelled in the cheer that erupted from the men.

The castle gates opened slowly but they were soon ushered inside. Lyla let Alistair take the lead, opting to stay back with her lover, Alistair was better with the humans anyway, and that was as much excuse as Lyla needed.

There was a niggling doubt in the back of Lyla’s mind as they walked through the courtyard. She had proposed to Leliana without proving herself worthy. In the clan, one had to earn the right to propose, hunting or crafting something for the loved one was common. She would have to ensure she did something special for her Leliana, nothing but the best was good enough for her. Perhaps Neria or Natalie would know what sort of gift was suitable for a human like her love, as much as it pained her to do so, Lyla would even craft something Andrastrian if she needed. She had always struggled with craftwork, it was her biggest failing by far but it was too close to winter to hunt anything impressive enough for her woman, and the animals that were still around would never venture close enough to the castle for Lyla to kill. She would have to do her best and hope to her gods, and Leliana’s, that it was enough.

The throne room was warmer than Lyla had imagined, and again she marvelled at human architecture, aravels never got this warm in winter, at least without Merrill’s help. The fires roared either side of the throne and the warm furs on the cold stone where no doubt a blessing to Neria, the first had the typical soleless shoes of a Dalish keeper.

“Warden,” Bann Teagan sat on the small throne, and was very careful to stare directly into Lyla’s eye, she knew he was talking to her, “welcome back. I hear you have good news for us?”

“Indeed. We have the ashes, though it came at great price.” Sten and an eye specifically.

“May I have it? I need to give it to our physicians right away, let them work to save my brother as quickly as possible.” Teagan walked towards her and Lyla reached into her bag, grabbing the pouch of ashes Leliana had thrown at her weeks ago.

“Thank you!” Teagan gasped, holding the pouch close to himself, as carefully as a new-born babe. “Please excuse me. The steward will show you to your rooms, please stay with us until Eamon awakes.”

A balding man led them through to the halls and Lyla took Leliana’s hand as they climbed up the large stairs to the many guest bedrooms.

The steward offered them all individual rooms, but Lyla would not be separated from her fiancée, they took the biggest bedroom, with the comfiest looking bed.

Lyla squealed as soon as the rest of the clan left, running to the bed and jumping on it with a contented sigh. “Vhenan, come snuggle!”

Leliana joined her and all was well.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> Translations
> 
> Elvish
> 
> Ir abelas – I’m sorry
> 
> Lethallan/lethallin – Close friend
> 
> Falon – friend
> 
> Shemlen – Human (quick child)
> 
> Vhenan  - Heart (Dalish term of endearment)
> 
> Orlesian (French)
> 
> Ma Cherie – my sweetheart


End file.
